


Paper Planes

by Naralanis



Series: Paper Planes [1]
Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-20
Updated: 2015-03-20
Packaged: 2018-03-18 17:16:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3577554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naralanis/pseuds/Naralanis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Andy receives an unexpected guest at The Mirror.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paper Planes

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is just something my overactive mind came up with while I was stuck in a two hour lecture I wasn't even supposed to be in in the first place. At least something came out of it! I might (MIGHT) go back and extend this at some point, but for now I'm leaving it as a one-shot so I can focus on my other story, 'For the Better'. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> ~Naralanis

 

                What nobody had told her about starting at a paper was the amount of useless crap she’d have to come up with every single day. Andy knew full well there was only so much she’d be allowed to do as a cub reporter, and she had expected to be saddled with obits and the occasional filler articles. But never in her wildest dreams did she think she would spend so much of her days digging through utter nonsense to make a story out of it. Just something to fill the space.

                So there she was, on a Friday afternoon, doing a ridiculously tedious story about a proposal to change the patterns of crosswalks so that they ‘complemented the city lines more effectively’. At least that was the quote she had gotten from the stoner who had started the petition. She wanted nothing more than to bang her head against the keyboard.

                “Sachs!”              

                She willingly tore her eyes away from the shit she was attempting to write when she heard Greg’s voice, raising an eyebrow in question.

                “There’s someone for you at the front desk.”

                She nodded in thanks and languidly made her way through the disarray of desks that littered the semi-open floor plan of _The Mirror._ She silently wondered who on Earth would come see her at the paper. Doug was busy working, and he was the only person she really saw outside of work these days. Anyhow, she would not complain of the distraction.

                Once she approached, she was surprised to see Rosie, the receptionist, kneeling by the side of the front desk, talking to someone obscured from view. Rosie spoke as soon as she saw Andy.

                “Hey Andy, this little one wanted to see you.”

                Andy’s stomach did what could only be described as a summersault once she rounded the desk and gazed upon a mass of red hair a couple of feet below, sitting on one of the foldable metal chairs at reception, her little feet clad in Mary Janes dangling and Dalton uniform wrinkled, icy-blue eyes red and teary.

                “Cassidy?! Good God, what are you doing here? How did you _get_ here? Does your mother know where you are?” she exclaimed, kneeling in front of the child and grasping her thin shoulders.

                Cassidy’s lower lip trembled and Andy saw the sniffles coming, the forewarning of sobs to come. She promptly shut up and hugged the girl tightly to her chest.

                “I’ll leave you two for a bit” Rosie said, and Andy shot her a grateful glance. She picked a tissue from the box on the desk and gently wiped at Cassidy’s eyes, giving the little girl the time to compose herself. Once she finally looked at Andy, the brunette gave her a half-smile, assuring her everything was alright.

                “Everything OK, Cass?”

                The little girl shook her head in the negative, holding onto Andy’s neck tightly. Andy didn’t know what to do besides pat the girl’s back in a comforting gesture. What the Hell was going on?

                “Andy, you have to come back! Go back and ask mom for your job back!” she finally said, once again fighting the sobs that shook her chest.

                Ah. So that’s what this was all about.

                When Andy had managed the impossible and delivered the Harry Potter manuscripts to the devilish twins, she had immediately been awarded ‘cool’ status in their nine-year-old minds. It was a little odd, gaining the respect of children in such a way, but if that meant no more possibly fireable pranks Andy would take it without complaint. After that, they’d always make an appearance each night she delivered the Book. In the beginning, it had scared the living daylights out of her— seeing the two little expressionless faces and two sets of bright eyes lurking in the dim light by the stairs. That first night, they had simply watched as she disposed of the dry-cleaning and set the mock-up on the table, and Andy had shivered when she left; it was like she was in _The Shining_ or something equally terrifying. She could just imagine, two eerie little voices calling to her in unison… _Come play with us, Aaandy._

                The second time the girls had been sitting on the steps, and once again simply watched as Andy performed her duties and began to make her way out. Then, for whatever reason, just before she crossed the threshold out of the house, she turned back and eyed them carefully before whispering sharply:

                “Go back to bed!”

                The third time, one of the twins —Caroline, she found out later — almost made her fall backwards down the front steps with an expertly aimed Nerf dart that just barely missed her face, sticking itself on the glass pane of the front door instead. She shot them a glare after composing herself, effectively wiping the smugness out of their deceptively angelic faces. She rid herself of the dry-cleaning and the Book, and once again began to make her way out. Before she did, however, she popped the dart off the pane and, with astonishing accuracy, flicked it right back at the culprit. It didn’t stick, but it bounced right off her freckled forehead. Caroline gaped in surprise while Cassidy stifled her giggles. Andy had smirked in triumph and left. Andy 1, Priestly twins 0.

                The fourth or fifth time — Andy had begun to lose count — they were again sitting at the steps, and simply watched as she went through the familiar routine. Just as she was about to leave one of them whispered:

                “What does ‘inutile’ mean?”

                Andy had turned around to face them again so fast she almost fell.

                “I bet she doesn’t know. It’s such a weird word.” The other twin said. Andy huffed.

                “It means useless, of no use or service.” She said, raising an eyebrow.

                “Oh, as in like, you’re an inutile assistant?” One of them said grinning evilly.

                Andy just groaned and left. Priestly twins 1, Andy 1.

                A sort of ritual had formed, and Andy’s interaction with the twins evolved little by little every night they went through it. Conversation topics varied greatly: sometimes they’d ask for the meaning of another obscure word, others they would ask her if she liked a particular musician, or if she thought Patricia would eat a kitten if they ever decided to get one. She had answered that last one with a resounding ‘Definitely!’, so as not to give them any ideas. Their encounters never lasted more than a minute— for all she knew, they were supposed to be in bed, and she had no doubt that Miranda would fire her if she ever caught her talking with her daughters. But if Miranda had any idea, she showed no indication.

                At some point Caroline and Cassidy had taken up origami, and every night Andy would leave the Priestly home with two new paper constructions in her purse. Some nights the twins didn’t show, but there would still be a pair of birds, frogs, stars or whatever else they could come up with waiting for her on the steps whenever she got there. Eventually she got the hang of it herself, and so began a game to find the origami master between the three. It had only ended when Andy’s employment ended. Her apartment was still littered with the little paper creations the twins had gifted her.

                Over the months she worked at _Runway,_ their little snippets of conversation eventually piled up. When what the girls wanted to converse about didn’t fit in the short time Andy had delivering the Book, the origami system became their main medium for communication, in the form of little notes that required a careful deconstruction of the intricate paper patterns to be read. With them, Andy got to know the twins a little better. Caroline’s handwriting and mind were much like Miranda’s; she dashed off multiple topics, subjects and stories at once in a surprisingly neat cursive that ran in straight lines, a lot of the time not completing her train of thought entirely, and, much like her mother, offering no explanation. Cassidy was different, in a way that reminded Andy of herself. Her handwriting was considerably messier, and tended to almost spiral around the edges of the paper, but she usually concentrated on one thing, and explored it with some depth— as much as a little square of paper would allow. After no time, Andy found she had a soft spot in her heart for the two scamps.

                It was odd, getting to know the Devil’s spawn and finding out they were really just two kids. Who would have thought? Caroline and Cassidy were just two girls struggling with being two girls, and for whatever reason, they had welcomed Andy into their little bubble. Because that’s where they lived; in their own little bubble, cut off from the rest of the world. They were always together, and seemed to be the quiet type at school, where they both excelled. In their notes, Andy saw into their thoughts about school, their pranks on their piano teacher, and their worries about their mother. And they did worry; it was crystal clear that they loved Miranda very much, and wished she was around more. So Andy took it upon herself to be the best damn assistant she could be; anything to make Miranda’s day smoother so she could make it home to her girls. It worked most of the time. She supposed her dramatic exit from _Runway_ had not make anything easier, and instantly felt the guilt consume her.

                Andy rubbed circles on the little girl’s back, her heart clenching at her sobs. She had not had the chance to even say goodbye to the twins. She felt awful, but there was nothing she could do.

                “Hey, Cass.” She said once the sobs subsided somewhat. “Come on, you can come to my desk— I’ve got chocolate.”

                The redhead nodded and grasped her hand in a strong grip, and refused to let go until she was seated at the reporter’s nook. Andy had not lied; she did have chocolate—a whole box of bite-sized Twix bars. It had been so funny to find out the twins loved chocolate— not just chocolate, but what they called ‘normal people chocolate’, such as Milky Ways, Hershey bars and M&Ms. Figures, being Priestlys they probably got the finest Belgian pralines for Easter.

                She waited patiently while Cassidy munched on the caramel-rich chocolate bar, quietly contemplating her surroundings. Once the girl seemed to have calmed down, she affectionately wiped away a chocolaty smudge from the corner of her lips before continuing with her interrogation.

                “So, Cass, can you tell me why you’re here? And how did you get here?” she asked, hoping her voice didn’t sound stern, but she was worried.

                Cassidy looked at the floor, as if expecting a reprimand.

                “I took the subway.” She mumbled to the stain on the carpet.

                “The subway?!” Andy almost screeched, before she could help herself. She regretted it as soon as she saw the girl’s blue eyes shine again with fresh tears.

                “Oh, Honey, I’m not mad at you, OK? It was just a dangerous thing to do.” She hugged the girl tightly, as if assuring herself that she was indeed alright. A shiver ran through her spine as she thought of the little redhead venturing alone into the chaos that was the New York Metro.

                “How did you even know where to go?” she asked, legitimately curious.

                Cassidy quietly rummaged through the front pocket of her rumpled uniform and produced a piece of paper that seemed to have been folded one too many times. She immediately recognized it with a painful pang of her heart; it was her first attempt at origami, a haphazard plane with the only material she had in hand: a map of the New York subway system. The twins had been less than impressed with the plane, but were genuinely interested on the colourful mess that was the metro, so Andy took a few minutes to give them a general synopsis of how it worked, along with pointing out a couple of interesting, recognizable spots in the map, such as Dalton, The Empire State, Times Square, _Runway,_ The United Nations…

                “You showed us where _Runway_ was. I got there and asked someone how to get here and walked the rest of the way. It’s really close.” She murmured.

                “Did you come here straight from school? What about Caroline?” Andy pressed, still worried. Her mind immediately ran through the worst case scenarios, having a nine-year-old walking around, alone, in New York City. She shuddered at the thought and held onto the girl, thanking anyone that would listen that she was unharmed.

                “Caro doesn’t know I’m here. I left her at school with Roy.”

                Andy’s mind started running a thousand miles per hour. The good news was that Caroline was safe with Roy. The bad news was that by this point he had most likely already warned Miranda and the school that one of her daughters had not shown. And, Miranda being Miranda, there was probably a full search party out for the girl already. Andy’s stomach clenched just thinking about how worried Miranda must be.

                “OK. Sweetie, we have to call your mom, and let her know that you’re safe. She must be worried sick.”

                “Are you coming back?” Cassidy asked.

                Andy sighed.

                “Cassidy, I have a new job. I can’t just go back to _Runway_ ” she tried to reason with the child.

                “But Andy, you have to come back, you have to! Everything sucks now that you’re gone. Mom’s never home, and even when she is, it isn’t right! You’re good at fixing things, right? So fix it!” she sniffled, clutching at Andy’s neck tightly. The brunette’s heart broke.

                “Oh, Honey, it isn’t that easy. I can’t just fix this.” She said, wishing with all her heart that she could.

                “You got us Harry Potter. You can do anything!” Cassidy cried, clearly trying and failing to hold back her tears. “I thought you liked us.” She added, distraught.

                Andy held the redhead’s shoulders tightly and looked into her eyes fiercely, her own brimming with tears as well.

                “Hey. I do like you, you and your sister.” _And your mother._ “I didn’t choose to leave you, I chose to leave my job because it made me unhappy. I didn’t have an opportunity to see you two out of my job.” She tried to explain. “Plus, I don’t think your mother would like it very much if I saw you two outside of work anyhow.” She added sadly.

                Cassidy’s eyes widened, and she wiped at the tear tracks on her freckled cheeks.

                “That’s not true, Andy. Mom’s sad, and Caro and I know it isn’t because of Stephen. Why did you leave her? Why did you leave us?”

                _How am I ever going to explain that?_ She couldn’t think about such things now. She had to contact Miranda and let her know that Cassidy was alright.

                “It’s complicated.” She said simply.

                Cassidy didn’t look like she accepted the answer, but did not volunteer anything else to say either. Andy sighed.

                “Listen, I need to call your mother. I know she’s worried to death. You just sit here and give me a few minutes, OK?”

                “OK.” Cassidy said.

                Andy fished her phone out and dialled, not even needing to think about the digits. She thought she’d never forget that number. It only rang once before an annoyed British voice carried through the line.

                “Miranda Priestly’s office” Emily huffed.

                “Em? It’s Andy.”

                Emily scoffed impatiently. She did not have time for this. Today was a day from Hell, and the last thing she wanted was to deal with Andrea Sachs.

                “Andrea, I don’t have time for this.”      

                “I need to talk to Miranda. It’s important” Andy tried, surprised the Brit hadn’t immediately hung up once she announced herself.

                “Well, I am very sorry, but Miranda doesn’t have time for this either. Goodbye.”

                “Wait, Emily, no! It’s Cassidy!”

                “What?!” Emily yelped. “What about Cassidy? Do you know where she is?! She didn’t show to meet Roy after school. Miranda has Caroline and police officers in the office right this second!”

                _Shit,_ Andy thought.

                “She’s at _The Mirror._ She just showed up and asked to see me.”

                “What? How on Earth did she get there?!”

                “She says she took the subway. She’s alright, a little rattled, but completely fine.” Andy was quick to add.

                On the other side of the line, Emily blanched at the very thought of Cassidy Priestly taking the subway by herself.

                “I need… I need to tell Miranda. Keep an eye on her and stay where you are, I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.” The Brit snapped before hanging up.

                Andy sighed. Some things did not change, she supposed. She turned back to Cassidy, who had busied herself by making paper planes out of some old magazines in the rack by Andy’s desk and was now throwing them over, trying to hit a bin a few feet away.

                “Hey, Cass. I called the office and told Emily where you are. Your mother was very worried, as I told you. She already had police officers with her because you disappeared. You can’t do stuff like that. If it wasn’t already, I’m sure your mother’s hair would have turned white with worry.”

                She managed to elicit a timid chuckle with that last line, which she deemed to be a good sign. With a contained sigh, she knelt by her chair and began folding up papers along with Cassidy while she awaited Emily’s call.

 

                Meanwhile, at the _Runway_ offices, Emily Charlton was bracing herself to go through the door and into her boss’ office. Miranda had turned into a real dragon once Roy called and informed her that Cassidy had not shown up. There had been a storm of calls to Dalton Academy and subsequently the police. Roy had brought Caroline to the office, and as soon as the girl arrived at the office, Miranda had held on to her for dear life and had yet to let her go. The Devil in Prada’s eyes shone with tears she absolutely refused to shed, and her voice had come in strangled gasps as she spoke to the policemen who arrived mere minutes after her daughter. Never in her entire time at _Runway_ had Emily seen her boss in such… despair. It was a weird shock to her system to see her boss’ human side.

                As she clicked into the office, her eyes set on Miranda, who sat on her couch with Caroline on her lap, clinging to her desperately. She had expected a reprimand but was surprised when she was faced with the empty gaze of the Editor. Miranda’s eyes could express so many things on their own, it was simply unnatural to see them so devoid of hope.

                “Miranda” she called softly. “I got a call—”

                “What do they want? How much do they want? Is my baby safe?” Miranda interrupted in a frantic whimper. The policemen eyed Emily expectantly.

                “No, no, she’s safe! She’s with Andrea.”

                “Andy? What’s Cass doing with Andy?” Caroline spoke, confused. Emily looked to Miranda for a reaction, a comment, but nothing came. Her eyes had turned to glass and her jaw had clenched. Uh-oh.

                “Apparently she took the subway” she chose to ignore the surprised gasp that escaped the Editor’s lips at that tidbit “and asked to see Andrea at _The Mirror._ She’s there now.”

                “Emily, call Roy. Gentlemen, that’s all.” Miranda was suddenly back into Ice Queen mode, albeit the Ice Queen looked a bit odd carrying a child in her arms affectionately. Still, it left no question; Emily immediately texted Roy warning that Cassidy had been found and that Miranda was on her way out. She silently thought of Andrea. Either Miranda would be exceedingly grateful (not that she’d show it) to the brunette, or ‘adequately disposing of bodies’ would have to be added to the assistant’s job description. She shook the thoughts away, muttering _I love my job, I love my job_ under her breath.

 

                Only when she and Caroline were safely ensconced into the town car did Miranda allow herself to breathe and let the tears fall. She had yet to let go of her daughter, but the girl didn’t seem to mind her vice-like grip. The mere thought of one of her babies traipsing along New York City alone was enough to make her nauseous. She had never felt such panic in her life, the closest thing to it was when she turned around and did not see her assistant behind her at Paris Fashion Week. But this was exponentially worse; Andrea at least was an adult. When Roy had called to inform Cassidy had not shown, it was like the weight of the entire world had come crashing upon her shoulders. She had realised it had been about four days since she had actually talked to either of her daughters, and the guilt ate away at her core like acid. How could she have let it come to this? What kind of mother was she?

                Wiping the tear tracks from her cheeks, Miranda silently sent her thanks to her former assistant. She had an idea why Cassidy had gone to Andrea, she just wished she had been consulted on the matter. Miranda was no fool; she knew her daughters eagerly awaited Andrea’s arrival with the Book every night, but had apparently misjudged just how much the three had bonded while Andrea worked for her. She’d see little paper creatures and objects in the girls rooms; the ones her girls made from the very expensive, very high-quality paper Miranda purchased to feed their hobby, and the ones Andrea made from virtually any kind of paper: an old cover from _Vogue,_ a map of Central Park, playbills from various shows. She found that those were her favourites; they had personality, and showcased just how creative a mind Andrea possessed.

                Miranda had deliberately refused to think about her former assistant once she was gone. When the girls asked her why Emily was back to delivering the Book, she had waved a hand dismissively and said that Andrea had moved on, and ‘that’s all’. She cringed. Her girls had been sad with the loss of their friend and the loss of their mother; she had been an idiot not to notice it earlier. So hell-bent on keeping Andrea from her thoughts, she dove into work like a madwoman, completely neglecting her own daughters in the process. And the Parent of the Year Award goes to… Not Miranda Priestly, not by a longshot.

                “Mom?” Caroline interrupted her self-deprecating musings with a timid voice.

                “Yes, Bobbsey?”  

                “Are you mad at Cassidy for going to see Andy?”

                Miranda took a few moments to deliberate. Anger at her daughter was not something she had even considered, simply because she was utterly terrified. Whatever reason Cassidy had for going to see Andrea, it couldn’t justify the disappearing act. She’s probably give her a stern talking to at some point, but for now she was just grateful her baby was OK.

                “No” she finally said “I’m not mad. I was too scared to be angry. But Bobbsey, why did she go like that? And without telling you?”

                Caroline shifted uncomfortably on her lap.

                “Don’t get mad.”

                Uh-oh. That was never a good sign.

                “I think she went to get Andy back.”

                Get Andrea back? She _had_ indeed misjudged how much her daughters cared for the girl then.

                “Oh, Caroline, you should have told me you two missed her.” And what would have happened, she immediately thought. Another dismissive hand wave? Another vague explanation?

                “That’s not it. I mean, we do miss Andy, but you miss her too. We can tell” Caroline said solemnly.

                Miranda’s heart seemed to contract painfully. They could tell. After so much effort gone into pretending she didn’t miss, didn’t _need_ Andrea by her side… Her girls had seen it. Of course they had. They were her daughters after all, it stood to reason that they would be incredibly perceptive.

                The rest of the ride progressed in silence. Thankfully, it was not a long one; only a couple of blocks. When Roy parked, all Miranda could think about was seeing Cassidy with her own eyes. Caroline hopped off her lap and practically dragged her mother by the hand as they swiftly made their way into _The Mirror_ ’s reception area, which was curiously empty. Miranda raised an eyebrow, her heart beating frantically in her chest; there was not a soul in sight.

                Before she could ponder further, however, she heard sounds coming from the other side of the open office, likely behind the dreadful off-white divisor wall that separated one area from the other. It didn’t take long to identify them; the rings of hearty laughter were only rivalled by the odd phone ringing on, unanswered.

                Clutching Caroline’s hand firmly, Miranda slowly walked towards the sounds, quietly enough that no one seemed to notice her approach. As soon as the duo turned the corner, they were surprised with a scene that clearly did not happen very often at _The Mirror,_ or at any other workplace for that matter.

                There were paper planes flying everywhere. A long conference table had been marked with lines delimitating distance, and a group of maybe a dozen or so men and women were busily at work making and launching various types of paper aircrafts, all the while laughing and cheering with glee. And at the head of the table, there was Cassidy — _standing_ on the table, for Christ’s sakes — with none other than Andrea Sachs preparing another plane for take-off beside her. She observed the scene for a few moments, focusing on her daughter—her eyes were red, as if she had been crying, but her smile was genuinely happy, something that Miranda had not seen for a while — and Andrea, who was flashing the room with her famous megawatt grin, looking lovingly at the excited little redhead jumping on the table.

                Cassidy saw them first, and as soon as she locked eyes with her mother, she froze in place like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar, an embarrassed flush creeping upon her freckled cheeks.

                “Cass! Andy!” Caroline shouted, breaking the spell. All the adults in the room, Andy included, stood rooted to their spots as another redheaded mass of hair ran across the room to hug her sister and the brunette reporter. Although, the reason they were frozen in place was more likely the woman with the little girl, the infamous Devil in Prada.

                Miranda could only stare as her two daughters clung to Andrea like castaways to a raft, making the brunette fumble with the added weight comically. She just couldn’t help it, the giggle escaped her lips before she had a chance to do anything about it. It caught Andrea’s attention first; the brunette looked at her in utter bewilderment before bursting out into fits of laughter herself.

                Someone barked for the adults to get back to work, and so the group began to filter out of the room, some stopping to high-five Cassidy or pat her playfully on the head. Usually Miranda would purse her lips in distaste at such a display of affection from strangers, but right now she could not bring herself to care. Her baby was safe and looking happier than she had in months.

                After recovering from the uncharacteristic giggle fit, she made her way towards her girls and Andrea. Cassidy had hopped off the table, and turned to Miranda, looking suitably chastised. She looked to the floor before addressing her mother.

                “Sorry for the scare, mom.”

                It all caught up to Miranda in the blink of an eye. All of a sudden she was kneeling on the floor, holding her child to her chest in a vice-like grip, fresh tears forming on her eyes. She was safe, she was safe.

                “Cassidy Anne Priestly! Never, ever scare me like that again, you hear me?!” she whimpered against the girl’s hair, not bothering to conceal her tears. “I’m so glad you’re safe. Don’t do it again, please. _Please._ ”

                Cassidy seemed to understand her mother didn’t _ask_ for things often. Her mother especially never _pleaded_ for anything.

                “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I needed to get Andy back! I’m sorry!” she sobbed.

                The brunette in question stood with the extra redhead clinging to her back like a monkey, a little embarrassed, feeling like she was intruding on a private moment.

                “No, Bobbsey, I’m the one who’s sorry. I’ve been an awful mother these past few months. Oh, darling, can you ever forgive me?”

                Cassidy rubbed at her eyes, which were now puffier than ever, and stared intently at her mom.              

                “Of course, mom. You were just hurting. I went to get Andy back so you wouldn’t hurt anymore. She can do anything, right?” she said matter-of-factly.

                Miranda turned to look at Andrea, who had blushed a deep shade of red/

                “Yes, darling, she can” she said, gazing straight into Andrea’s mocha brown orbs, trying to convey in one look all of her gratitude, relief, and so much more. The brunette seemed to get the message, she was always better at reading Miranda than anyone else, after all.

                “It was nothing, Miranda. I was just glad she made it here OK.”

                “No, Andrea. It wasn’t ‘nothing’. It was everything. I can never thank you enough. For everything.” Miranda rasped, her voice coarse from crying.

                Andy nodded in understanding. Caroline finally extricated herself from her back and promptly whacked her sister on the shoulder.

                “Don’t you ever do that again, Cass!”

                Her sister offered a watery smile as her apology. Soon enough, the two scampered away to play with the remaining paper planes that littered the room. Miranda was still on her knees, a rare smile tugging at her lips at the sight of her two girls. She felt, rather than saw Andrea approach and extend a hand.

                “Any help up?” she offered, along with that beaming smile.

                Ordinarily, Miranda would have scoffed at and dismissed anyone who even insinuated she needed assistance of any kind, for anything. But today, she let it go and took the brunette’s hand on her on, pulling herself up on her Prada pumps with grace. The contact was brief, but full of… something, neither Miranda not Andy could properly identify. The two simply stood in a comfortable silence for a few long moments.

                “Thank you again, Andrea” Miranda found herself saying.

                “It was nothing, Miranda, really. There’s not much I wouldn’t do for those two scamps.” Andrea said, before she could stop herself. She quickly snapped her mouth shut, afraid she had crossed some kind of line.

                “They’re very fond of you” the Editor conceded.

                “I’m very fond of them, too.” Andrea admitted.

                “You seem to have a knack for accomplishing the impossible” Miranda began. “Acquiring an unpublished manuscript, walking away from the Dragon unscathed… worming your way into the hearts of not one, but three Priestly women.”

                _Three? She couldn’t be…_

                “Three?” Andy echoed, just in case she had suddenly gone deaf on one ear.

                Miranda turned and gazed at her intently with those icy blue eyes.

                “Yes. Three.”

                “Well.” The brunette made no effort to hide the grin that went from ear to ear at the revelation.

                Once again, the two fell into silence, quietly observing the two girls who seemed intent on one-upping the other in a paper-plane launching frenzy. Caroline noticed their mother looking at them, and motioned for the two women to approach.

                “Mom! Andy! Try these ones out!” she yelled, waving a ream of crumpled planes in her hand.

                “Those won’t work, Caroline. Look, you crumpled them all” Andy pointed out.

                “So? Just make some new ones. You too, mom, Andy can teach you.” She said, as if teaching Miranda Priestly how to make paper planes was the most normal thing in the world. The redhead soon distracted herself with another plane, leaving the two women to themselves. Luckily Andy didn’t have to debate much for her next course of action.

                “Well, Andrea? I believe you have a lesson to teach. Come, now, I don’t wish to be spared the fun much longer.” Miranda drawled in a playful tone that was absolute music to Andy’s ears.

                “As you wish” she responded in jest, drawing two pieces of paper from the table and setting one in front of each.

                It was unbelievably surreal to watch Miranda Priestly carefully grasp and tug at the paper to create neat folds and creases with her impeccably manicured hands. She followed Andy’s patient instructions to a tee, and, Miranda being Miranda, she got the hang of it extremely quickly. Her finished product emerged without a single crease out of place. Figures.

                Satisfied with her own efforts, Andy drew her arm back, poised to launch. Miranda did the same.

                “Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain Andy Sachs speaking. Please make sure that your seat and folding trays are in the upright position and that your seat-belts are securely fastened.”

                Miranda rolled her eyes, an amused grin on her face.

                “One, two…three!”

                The two planes glided smoothly through the air in perfect synchrony, going a fair distance before landing gracefully at the very last marker on the table, tipping at the very edge. Andy spied with the corner of her eye a satisfied smirk grace Miranda’s features. Of course she had excelled on her first try. She almost gasped, however, when she felt the Editor’s warm hand seek out her own, lacing their fingers together and holding on firmly.

                “Andrea?”

                “Yes, Miranda?” She gazed deep into those blue orbs, and was surprised to see longing, relief, and… doubt?

                “Would you be amenable to coming to dinner at the townhouse tonight?” Miranda asked in a small, timid voice, in a tone she had never heard come from the Queen of Fashion before. Her resulting grin was incontrollable.

                “I’d love to.”

 


End file.
